…
One month later.
The daily rhythm of Team Kaito had completely stabilized.
Wake up, train, go on missions, recover and repeat.
At first, the pace had felt excessive to Sora and Hideki.
But now? It had simply become normal.
Repetition gives rise to familiarity.
Kaito made sure their schedule alternated constantly between D-rank and C-rank missions, never allowing them to remain comfortable for too long in the D-rank category.
Every week, they would go on one C-rank mission and the remaining days were filled with D-rank assignments across the village.
This was Kaito's deliberate training for the team.
D-rank missions built discipline and familiarity with the village, while C-rank missions built combat awareness and readiness.
And over the course of the month, the results became obvious.
The trio's coordination improved by a margin through repetition, experience and familiarity.
Hideki had gradually learned how to stop rushing ahead recklessly during missions.
Partly because Sora kept yelling at him whenever he did and mostly because of the silent look of reproach Murakami gave him whenever he did.
Sora himself became faster at adapting during unpredictable situations rather than overthinking.
And Murakami…
Murakami had quietly become the axis around which the team naturally stabilized.
Not officially or verbally, but during missions, both Hideki and Sora unconsciously began relying on his judgment more and more.
Especially during combat.
Their missions varied constantly.
Supply escorts between nearby settlements.
Helping reinforce damaged infrastructures.
Capturing wild animals that wandered too close to civilian districts.
Tracking thieves.
Patrolling roads.
Assisting injured civilians after accidents.
Even another bandit suppression mission.
Though compared to their first one, the second ended far more smoothly.
Hideki proactively intercepted more enemies while Sora coordinated with him by setting up traps.
As for Murakami, he handled battlefield control.
The teamwork felt natural and more efficient.
At one point during a patrol mission, Hideki had accidentally triggered a hidden trap wire while charging ahead recklessly.
Sora called him an idiot for nearly ten minutes afterward.
Murakami simply dismantled the remaining traps silently while the two argued behind him.
Another time, during an escort mission through heavy rain, Sora had become sick halfway through the return trip after refusing to rest properly.
Hideki panicked harder than Sora himself did.
Murakami ended up carrying most of the supplies while simultaneously preparing medicinal herbs he had memorized.
Sora never spoke about that incident afterward.
But his attitude toward Murakami shifted subtly again after it.
Then there were the more annoying missions.
Finding lost pets.
Cleaning training grounds.
Repairing fences.
Removing nests of chakra-enhanced insects near farmland.
Hideki nearly cried during the insect mission.
Murakami understood why.
Those things were horrifying.
Even Kaito occasionally participated more directly during the C-rank missions now.
Not because the trio were weak.
But because he had begun gradually exposing them to more dangerous situations little by little.
Enough pressure to sharpen them but not enough to break them.
And throughout that entire month, Murakami never stopped training despite the lack of results.
His chakra reserves no longer increased, however, his control improved, his sensory perception continued sharpening and his Phantom Step became smoother.
It was quieter, though still incomplete.
…
On the final day of the month, Team Kaito had just finished submitting another completed mission report inside the Mission Administration Building.
A simple C-rank escort assignment to a nearby village just 2 days away from Konoha.
Nothing unusual about it.
The atmosphere inside the building remained busy as always.
Hideki stretched his arms tiredly while walking beside Sora.
"I'm telling you," he muttered, "if one more merchant asks me to carry boxes—"
"You will carry them," Sora interrupted immediately.
"Traitor."
Murakami walked slightly ahead of them both silently. He had gotten used to the duos banter and found it rather amusing sometimes.
Not that he was ever going to admit it to them.
And just then—
A group passed by from the opposite direction walking into the building.
Three shinobi.
The moment they crossed paths, Hideki and Sora barely spared them a glance.
Just another team.
Murakami outwardly showed no reaction either.
But inwardly—
His attention locked instantly onto one of them.
The young shinobi had silver-white hair. His calm eyes and relaxed posture concealed something terrifyingly sharp.
Like a blade hidden beneath cloth.
The man walked casually beside his teammates while carrying mission scrolls beneath one arm.
There was no arrogance to him
And yet, Murakami's instincts flared the moment he brushed past him.
'Hatake Sakumo.' He inwardly made a note. The future White Fang of Konoha and someone Murakami instinctively marked as extraordinary.
For the briefest moment, the man's gaze shifted slightly toward Murakami as they passed one another then both continued walking normally.
No words exchanged or acknowledgment made. Just two shinobi passing by each other inside a crowded building.
Yet Murakami's thoughts lingered briefly afterward.
Because unlike most shinobi he had encountered so far…
This was someone genuinely monstrous.
A man who would one day earn enough fame and fear that even the Sannin themselves would respect his name.
…
Hatake Sakumo was tired.
Not physically.
A shinobi of his caliber had long since grown accustomed to physical exhaustion.
No, what tired him was the constant movement that came with mission after mission, bloodshed after bloodshed.
The endless cycle that came with being useful to the village. Still, outwardly, none of it showed.
He had been at this for over a year now and knew that to be effective and efficient, he needed to keep his thoughts to himself and only act when needed.
The silver-haired shinobi walked calmly through the halls of the Mission Administration Building with a relaxed posture, a completed mission scroll tucked beneath one arm while his two teammates followed nearby.
One of them yawned loudly. "I swear, if the Hokage assigns us another border patrol immediately after this, I'm pretending to be injured."
"That only works if you can act properly," the other replied dryly.
"I can act."
"You cried when that civilian doctor disinfected your wound."
"That stuff burned!"
Sakumo ignored the exchange quietly. The mission itself had gone smoothly. A border reconnaissance assignment near one of Fire Country's outer regions.
Nothing particularly difficult.
Though lately, even "simple" missions carried tension beneath the surface due to the ongoing war.
The First Shinobi War had already dragged on long enough for exhaustion to settle deep into every hidden village.
Resources. Territories. Information.
Every nation fought endlessly to gain even the slightest advantage over the others.
Border skirmishes occurred almost daily now.
Shinobi disappeared constantly near contested regions.
Entire squads sometimes failed to return from what were supposed to be routine reconnaissance missions.
And the worst part?
People were slowly becoming used to it.
Even inside Konoha, the atmosphere had subtly changed.
More experienced shinobi could feel it clearly. The war was nearing its end, yet that was the danger.
Because if anything… It was only getting worse from here.
And just then—
Another team passed by them from the opposite direction.
Three Genin.
Sakumo barely paid them attention initially.
That happened constantly inside the Hokage Building.
Teams came and went every hour.
Most Genin blurred together eventually.
Loud, inexperienced, easy to read.
That was the trait they all had. They hadn't seen the horrors of the outside world afterall.
Inwardly, he noted the trio down out of habit.
One energetic boy.
One composed intellectual type.
And one quiet—
Sakumo's steps slowed slightly.
The teams had crossed paths completely.
Then continued walking.
Three more steps passed.
Four.
Sakumo suddenly stopped.
His teammates also stopped almost immediately.
"Hm?" one of them blinked. "What's wrong?"
The other followed Sakumo's line of sight toward the trio walking away through the building entrance.
"…Did you forget something?"
Sakumo didn't answer immediately.
His eyes remained fixed briefly on the black-haired Genin walking at the front of the group.
He had a quiet presence to himself.
His steps, measured. Breathing relaxed.
Yet strangely, he was difficult to ignore.
Not because the boy carried killing intent.
Quite the opposite.
Everything about the boy felt… rooted.
Steady.
At a glance, he was unremarkable enough to disappear naturally into the background beside his louder teammates.
But if one observed carefully… He resembled a pillar driven deep into the earth.
Quiet yet immovable.
The kind of presence people subconsciously overlooked precisely because it did not seek attention.
And somehow, Sakumo found that far more unusual than overt talent.
Sakumo's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.
Because for a single moment while passing each other… his instincts had reacted.
Very slightly.
Most people would never have noticed it.
Sakumo did.
'Interesting.'
The boy's chakra presence wasn't particularly overwhelming.
In fact, it was unusually calm for someone his age.
But that presence… That was abnormal.
It reminded Sakumo vaguely of older shinobi who had survived real battlefields.
Not Genin.
Certainly not civilian-raised Genin.
He could tell because there were no additional insignia on him symbolizing any clan.
And there was something else.
The boy had noticed him too.
Not openly or directly, but Sakumo had felt it.
That brief moment of mutual recognition between predators instinctively acknowledging another presence worth remembering.
"…Sakumo?" his teammate asked again.
Finally, Sakumo looked away.
"…Nothing," he answered calmly.
Then after a brief pause, he added quietly,
"That team is interesting."
His teammates blinked once before glancing toward the now distant trio again.
"…The loud one definitely isn't," one muttered.
Sakumo chuckled faintly at that before continuing forward once more.
Still…
For some reason, the image of that quiet Genin lingered briefly in his thoughts.
Not because the boy was strong… at least, not yet.
But because Sakumo had the strange feeling that once that rooted pillar truly finished taking shape…
The shinobi world around him would eventually notice.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
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